Poetic Justice
by Sorciere
Summary: After the battle...


Disclaimer: *Sorcieré gives Marvel the one-fingered salute*  
Title: Poetic Justice  
Author: Sorcieré  
Rating: R - slightly disturbing subjects.  
Genre: Scott, Magneto, AU (not any big changes, though)  
Pairing: Slight S/J  
WARNING: Character death  
Summary: The aftermath.  
  
To Nadja, for helping with the details and just being her plain ol' weird self :-)  
  
_..._ Indicates a flashback  
  
***  
  
Poetic Justice  
  
***  
  
The walls were a depressing gray, much like the sky outside.   
  
Scott Summers found that very appropriate.   
  
The hallway around him consisted of concrete, glass and plastic and looked much like a typical prison. It was gray and white and had a strange clinical air around it, combined with a feeling of utter hopelessness. If one looked closer, though, it would become obvious that something was different - the doors were make of hard plastic instead of metal. The locks were apparently of some white ceramic that looked rather fragile, but which - according to the blueprints - were as solid as the doors.  
  
Summers also knew from the blueprints that the hallway he was in was fairly short, but as he walked there, it felt endless. Maybe this was how other people felt when they visited someone in prison. Maybe this was how a prisoner on the death row felt when he walked the last, fatal steps.   
  
It felt endless, but to Summers it was a welcome opportunity to prepare himself mentally for what was to come.  
  
  
_..."I *need* to know why he did it, Sir. I need some answer, and only he can give them to me," Scott said.  
  
Professor Charles Xavier frowned slightly.  
  
"Are you sure you are ready to do this, Scott? Since the Statue, you haven't been...yourself," he said concerned.  
  
Scott closed his eyes for a brief moment. To an observer, it would seem like he was trying to form his next words. But Jean, the person who had known him the best, would have known that he was doing his best to shield some of his thoughts from the telepath in front of him.  
  
"I've tried, Professor. I've tried to come to terms with it, but...I can't do this unless I know why. I have to know. Please." The last word was as close as Cyclops had ever come to begging, and Xavier finally nodded.   
  
"All right, Scott. I will make the necessary arrangements."  
  
"Thank you, Professor."..._  
  
  
Scott continued down the hallway, heading for the cell that dominated this part of the prison. He passed two guards, who took one look at the papers in his hand, then motioned for him to continue. When the Professor did something, he did it thoroughly - the guards were under orders to leave Scott alone and not to search him. The latter was probably a good thing, seeing as the pair of glasses he wore - while made of plastic - would probably attract a lot of attention...especially if he was forced to take them off.  
  
He couldn't afford that. Too much time and money would be wasted if some over-eager guard asked too many questions.  
  
  
_..."Can you deliver within two weeks?" Scott asked.  
  
The man shrugged slightly.  
  
"Depends on what ya want. Some stuff is pretty hard to come by, y'know."  
  
Scott handed him a piece of paper. The man quickly read it and his eyes widened.  
  
"Professional, huh?" He continued without waiting for a reply. "Yeah, I can get it, but it's gonna cost ya. This ain't exactly something ya can find everywhere."  
  
Scott looked coldly at him.  
  
"I can pay. Just get it on time."..._  
  
  
One of the guards opened the door and Scott waited while the last section of the floor extended and connected to the cell. The faint sound of plastic scraping against plastic seemed oddly loud in the big room, but Scott ignored it and walked across the thick see-through floor. Behind him, the guards closed the door, and walked away to give the visitor some privacy - again, thanks to Xavier's arrangements.   
  
Scott entered the cell, and the prisoner looked up.  
  
"Cyclops."  
  
Scott noticed the small hint of surprise in the voice, and smiled slightly.  
  
"Magneto."  
  
Erik Magnus Lehnsherr seemed shocked for a moment, then recovered and returned to his old, confident self.  
  
"Please, sit down. What brings you here?" He asked.  
  
Scott sat down, not letting Magneto's nonchalant politeness get to him.  
  
"I convinced the Professor that I needed to see you after...what happened."  
  
Magneto nodded slowly.  
  
"Yes. I understand that you would need some closure. But tell me...how is the girl?"  
  
"Rogue? Physically, she's fine. Wolverine touched her and let her borrow his healing factor. It sent him in a coma for five days, but he seems to have recovered now."  
  
"How remarkable," Magneto mumbled.  
  
"Yes. Storm...she got some bad burns on her right arm when I melted the metal that held her captured, but hopefully, she will only get some small scars."  
  
"I see."  
  
For a long moment they just stared at each other.  
  
"Why would you care, anyway?" Scott finally asked, and for the first time he let some of his anger show.  
  
Magneto sighed.  
  
"I am not a monster, Cyclops. I don't want innocents to get hurt."  
  
"Innocents?!" Scott snapped. "Are you telling me that Rogue wasn't an innocent? That Jean wasn't?"  
  
"What I did, I did for the good of mutantkind," Magneto retorted. "No, Rogue did not deserve what she went through, and neither did Jean Grey, but in cases like this, the good of the many must come before the good of the few."  
  
"I'm not the right person to tell this to. Save the propaganda for someone who cares to listen."  
  
Magneto sighed.  
  
"You're right. And I will."  
  
The cell grew silent once more, then Scott threw the folder on the table. Magneto looked at it, then at his visitor.  
  
"Read them," Scott suggested.  
  
Magneto sent him another look, then opened the folder and picked up the first of the papers.   
  
"An article?" he noticed, then quickly read the beginning. He frowned, then picked up a second, then a third. Finally, he put the articles back in the folder and pushed it across the table.  
  
"They got away?" he asked.  
  
"All of them," Scott confirmed. "You failed."  
  
"Then I suppose you won the first round," Magneto noted.  
  
"No. We both lost."  
  
Scott clenched his hands and the pain of his nails penetrating his skin made him oddly focused.  
  
"Why?" he finally asked.  
  
Magneto didn't have to ask what he meant.  
  
"She was a danger, Cyclops. In a war, you make sure that any danger to you is neutralized. As a tactician, you of all people should know this."  
  
"You could have knocked her unconscious. You didn't have to kill her, damnit!"   
  
"I am truly sorry, but she knew what she getting into. War means casualties, and this...is war."  
  
Scott sent him a half-cynical, half-sad smile.  
  
"I felt her die, you know that? We were linked. I used to fell her as a glowing presence in my mind, as bright and glorious as a phoenix, but now...it's just empty. There's nothing. I *felt* her cry out to me with her last thought. I felt her slip away and die...because of you."  
  
Magneto opened his mouth to answer but felt a sudden wave of dizziness. He sent Scott a look that spoke of dawning realization.   
  
"Arsenic," Scott confirmed. "Or at least a genetically modified version of it. It's a classic, you know. In its original shape, it causes somnolence, dizziness, delirium and coma. This version, however, also kills its victim in less than two hours."  
  
Scott smiled coldly at the look of pure horror on Magneto's face. The older mutant tried to attract the attention of the guards, but Scott pushed him back into his chair.  
  
"It doesn't matter if you call them as soon as I leave. There is no antidote. I made sure of that."  
  
He got up and took the folder, carefully avoiding any contact with the papers.  
  
"It's a pretty interesting poison, actually. It's genetically modified to be absorbed through the skin...there's enough of it on these articles to kill a small town."  
  
"You won't get away with this, Cyclops. The moment you walk out of here, I will alert the guards. You'll be spending the rest of your life in prison!"  
  
Scott smiled a cold, merciless smile.  
  
"Do you really think I'm that stupid? I, or actually, Xavier, made sure that none of the cameras in here are on. Before you manage to convince the guards that something is wrong, I will be far away."  
  
"Charles put you up to this?!" Magneto whispered disbelieving.  
  
"Oh, no. He thinks I'm here to 'find some closure'. After being with him for almost ten years, I know how to shield my thoughts."  
  
He smiled coldly.  
  
"Goodbye."  
  
"No!"  
  
Scott ignored Magneto's shout and walked across the plastic bridge that was pulled back behind him.  
  
"Are you okay, Sir?" one of the guards asked. "The prisoner seemed pretty angry."  
  
Scott smiled sadly.  
  
"I'm afraid the loneliness is taking it toll on him. The poor man is going crazy. He kept babbling about some poison you - the guards - had put in his food or something."  
  
The guard sighed.  
  
"Definitely crazy. But after what he did, I'm not gonna fell sorry for him."  
  
"No," Scott agreed. "Me neither."  
  
He nodded to the guard and walked down the hallway. As on the way in, nobody stopped him, and ten minutes later, Scott found himself outside the large prison.  
  
With practiced nonchalance, he took out his keys and got into the black Mercedes. He smiled kindly to the guards at the gate, then drove out of the parking lot.   
  
He took one last look at the prison, then turned the car around and drove out of New York.  
  
  
***  
The End  
***  
  
Join the Madness!   
Sorcieré's Madhouse - www.wolverineandrogue.com/sorciere  



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